


if i wait till it feels right, ill be waiting my whole life

by thevaccines



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Teacher-Student Relationship, maybe smut if i feel like it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 18:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15321810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevaccines/pseuds/thevaccines
Summary: “Excuse me, gentlemen at the back.” Simon and Connor’s eyes both widen as they sit a bit straighter, heads whipping foreword at the sudden confrontation that they got caught talking in the middle of the lecture.Simon’s heart sinks then, a few more memories flooding back from the previous night as he meets the eyes of his professor. One green, one blue. Vibrant and dark mix, staring at Simon. He sees brief recognition float over his -- Dr. Markus Manfred’s -- face. But it’s quickly masked by an authoritative expression, one that makes Simon’s skin feel hot all over.(or the Student/Teacher AU where after an eventful but barely remembered hookup, Simon's path crosses once again with Markus', who struggles to not let their previous engagement affect their lives and professional attitudes...except..it totally does.)





	if i wait till it feels right, ill be waiting my whole life

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to my very unplanned markus/simon student/teacher au!!  
> no idea when ill update this but im into it atm & ive got things planned, so if it gets some positive feedback there will definitely be a lot more!!
> 
> id like to take this moment to appreciate and thank Carly bc she inspires me and also motivates me to write!!! she also writes some amazing hank/connor fics, go check her out!! @giraffingallday
> 
> hope you enjoy !

Simon takes a deep and slightly calming breath before his hand falls onto the cold steel doorknob. Slowly, he turns it, trying to make as little noise as possible. He was late, of course, after a night spent at a frat party, having gone shot to shot with Connor, and — listen to _this_ — he woke up with  _hickeys_ on his _thighs._ Most unusual for Simon, of course, was to even consider randomly hooking up with someone at any kind of party. But, alas, as he had woken up late with a throbbing headache, proceeded to see he was late, and then ran to class with a muffin stashed in his backpack alongside his laptop, his blacked out memories slowly came back, confirming that something definitely did happen to involve the given hickeys.

There’s not much he does remember. He remembers arriving to a frat party with Connor at around 11pm, and then having to leave around 2am. He remembers Connor complaining that there was _no_ _cute frat boys,_ and Simon remembers disagreeing. He remembers smoking a cigarette with Kara, Luther alongside them but not partaking in the smoking. At some point, they ended up at one of Kara’s artistic friend’s dorm, where they drank some more and then stumbled back home around 5am.

But overall, what he remembered most was the moment he stood in the crowded kitchen at the frat house. He just had two shots of tequila, the taste of salt and lime lingering on his tongue as he now began to take some small sips of his vodka cranberry. Connor had walked off to go find something to smoke, leaving Simon to stand in a corner, waiting for the alcohol to kick in so his social side could bloom.

After a while, Simon wasn’t even sure if what he was seeing was a buzzed-induced illusion, or if someone that fucking _gorgeous_ actually just casually graced this party with his presence.

They locked eyes, vibrant green and one deep blue lingering too long for comfort on Simon. Simon had narrowed his eyes slightly, chin tilting up as a small smile came onto his face. And — _yes_ , the absolute God of a man had clenched his jaw, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. His eyes disconnected from Simon’s, connecting to someone he must’ve known as a smile broke out on his face, a comfortable greeting between the man and the other unknown played out. Briefly during their conversation, as Simon stared on over the rim of his cup, those eyes — which Simon _still_ couldn’t get over — had met his again, widening slightly in amusement and interest, a quick raise of his brow had determined for Simon that this man was indeed just as interested as Simon was in him. It didn't take much to know when there was some mutual interest developing. 

Simon enters the lecture auditorium, the door silent. Luckily, the professor’s back was turned towards the whiteboard. With a quick glance through the classroom, his eyes land on Connor, big brown puppy eyes staring at him in hopes Simon would see him. He quickly gestures for Simon to come over, and Simon obeys, sneaking through a few rows, muttering a few apologizes as he maneuvered his way through some students and beside Connor, who’d saved him a seat.

“Just on time my friend.” Connor whispers, tone laced with a familiar tease that Simon was fond of. He gives a half-hearted chuckle, shuffling his bag off his back and sitting down quickly. He takes his laptop out, muffin as well, his stomach had been eating itself the whole way over. Thankfully the class wasn’t too far from his dorm, so he was able to sneak in a fast shower before putting on the quickest things he could find, and running.

He sits straight, leaning back into his seat, logging into his email and getting his work material set up, glancing over his syllabus. He looks back to the whiteboard, looking to his professors name. _Doctor Markus Manfred._  Sounds classy, slightly familiar, but only because Simon had seen it on his schedule. 

“Woah —“ Connor breathes, and Simon looks towards him, curious. He finds Connor staring down at his neck, eyes wide and pupils slightly darker. “Si…Hickeys?” He questions, using a nickname he'd given Simon back in first year, and Simon raises an eyebrow in response.

“On my neck too?” He asks, hand flying quickly to the spot where Connor’s eyes were fixated. It stings slightly where his fingers touch, and undoubtedly, there is a hickey there. In his haste to shower and run to class, he hadn’t bothered to even look at himself in the mirror. It's sort of funny, and it makes him give chuckle silently.

“What do you mean _too?”_ Connor asks, his whisper a little quick and aggressive. His eyes meet back to Simon, and for a moment, only briefly, Simon feels a bit guilty, though he's not sure why. 

“I…In the shower…There’s like.. five hickeys on my thighs.” Simon says in disbelief, trying to hide the smile that threatens to come out. Hickeys weren’t a common thing for him, especially since it’s usually just him and Connor and — Simon doesn’t like letting anyone mark him like that. He doesn’t think he’d ever want a hickey, unless he was actually dating someone, which, hasn’t happened yet.

“What the fuck?” Connor’s response is a little louder, and a few students turn to give some glares, clearly trying to pay attention the class.

“Shut up.” Simon says, feeling nervous with the amount of eyes on him. He quickly returns to look at his laptop, eyes briefly glancing up at the professor, who’s back is still turned, more writing now on the board and he knows he should start typing now if he wanted to make sure he got everything down.

The thing is, he can still feel Connor’s eyes on him, burning into the side of his face like a harsh and unrelenting spotlight. Simon gives him a sideways glance, trying to gesture the fact that the conversation is now over — or at least, they can talk about this all _later_.

“Sorry,” Connor whispers. Simon understands why Connor is surprised, even maybe a little hurt that some random hookup was allowed to do things to Simon that Connor had been forbidden to do since the beginning.

After a few minutes, he sees Connor begin to browse around on his laptop, and Simon continues to write down the multiple paragraphs the professor has now written by hand on the board, his hands aching at the thought of doing that much physical writing. He wonders how he does it, how any professor with the amount of technology they have now, could even bother actually writing. Regardless, he enjoys the authenticity. This _was_ a creative writing class after all.

“Who was it?” Suddenly Connor is close to him. He hadn’t even realized Connor leaning over, though his seat creaked and he had dimmed his laptop completely. Simon jerked to the side slightly, Connor’s sudden closeness had surprised him. He sighed then, letting out an elongated but quiet groan.

“No idea. Maybe some frat guy? S’all kinda…blacked out.” Simon responds, looking to Connor when he finishes speaking, and notices how Connor retracts himself inward slightly, hands falling to his lap as he leans to the opposite side a little. “Too much tequila.” Simon says jokingly, and it brings a small small onto Connor’s face, which in return, makes Simon give him one bright smile. Slowly, though, Connor’s smile began to fade as the moments passed quietly.

“What about you? Any hookups?” Simon questions, genuinely curious to know if his friend got any action like he had.

“Nah, don’t you remember what I said? _No cuties in this place_.” He offers a small chuckle, making Simon shake his head but give a small laugh anyways. After a few moments, Connor quietly adds, “Bet whoever you hooked up with wasn’t all that good looking, huh? Especially if it was someone from the party…”  

Simon gives him a look then, a small scoff escaping him. “Jealous much?” He says, meaning to make it sound more like a joke, but it instead just sounds passive aggressive. He picks slightly at the uneaten muffin on his desk in front of him, the anger that begins to boil inside of him making his appetite decrease.

“No.” Connor instantly says, voice a little dry. “Just — you let him give you a _hickey._ Actually — _multiple_ hickeys.”

“Connor..” Simon whispers, a warning laced in his name.

“ That’s like…a _big_ _no_ for you.” Connor’s lips purse and quirk to the side, as if he was deep in thought.

“What’s your fucking point.” Simon whispers back, more aggressive and protective of himself than he usually is around Connor. He tries to focus on his screen, tries to focus on the professor, but he can feel the anger rising in him. He’s hungover, still hungry as fuck and now he’s got Connor breathing down his neck about some random hookup — as if he _cares._ Simon always listens to him talk about _his_ random hookups — and Simon is happy for him whenever he gets some action. Why, when Simon finally gets some that isn’t with Connor, that Connor gets so goddamn _annoying_ about it?

“Just.. doesn’t seem like you.”

“I was drunk.”

“Clearly.” Connor’s reply is as quick as it is hurtful, and it makes Simon’s eyebrows furrow together, his breathing become a little unstable as he stares ahead, not focused on anything but their current conversation.

“Do you have a problem?” Simon asks after an uncomfortable amount of silence between them has passed. Connor meets his eyes, looking sorrowful for a reason Simon can’t comprehend. Is he actually jealous? Of someone else being able to mark up Simon in ways that Connor has previously asked Simon if he could do? Simon’s answer had always been no, because things between them were strictly platonic -- and Simon intended for things to _stay_ that way between them.

No amount of puppy eyes from Connor could change that, even if Simon thought he was his most attractive friend. Well, Luther could probably be a runner up for that position, but he was straight, and completely attached to Kara. Simon didn’t even dream about _that_ possibility. It would probably break his heart a little. 

“My problem…” Connor begins, trailing off slightly. He looks to Simon, shaking his head as he clearly can't get the words out. Simon lets out a louder scoff now, rolling his eyes, unsure why exactly he did it, but it makes more than a few heads turn.

“ _Excuse_ me, gentlemen at the back.” Simon and Connor’s eyes both widen as they sit a bit straighter, heads whipping foreword at the sudden confrontation that they got caught talking in the middle of the lecture.

Simon’s heart sinks then, a few more memories flooding back from the previous night as he meets the eyes of his professor. One green, one blue. Vibrant and dark mix, staring at Simon. He sees brief recognition float over his -- Dr. Markus Manfred’s -- face. But it’s quickly masked by an authoritative expression, one that makes Simon’s skin feel hot all over.

“I will not allow for any distractions during my lectures. You either sit and pay attention, or you can leave and go get a coffee, catch up on each others lives.” He says, his tone sarcastic and _again_ authoritative. A few students chuckle at the way he pokes fun. It embarrasses them both, but unlike Connor, Simon can’t look away. “I expect you to be diligent in your work, and respect me enough as your professor to at _least_ be here mentally when you are here physically. Am I understood?”

Connor nods, and Simon quickly does too, his mouth feeling dry, his throat sore with a sudden ache for _something_ to soothe it. 

“Can I at least get a _yes sir?”_

“Yes sir.” Connor and Simon both say in unison, Simon’s voice a lot smaller and raspier.

“Thank you.” Markus turns swiftly on his heel, hand rising back to the board with ease and grace and he continues to write, unfazed by the intrusion that Connor and Simon had made. _God_ Simon remembers a lot more than he thought he would about a night that consisted of _many_ shots and just an overabundance of... _activities._  Simon gulps.

Memories come back, small ones that fit together like a puzzle. Faded slightly, but a part of Simon could still _feel_ Markus’ hands on his body, could feel his body pressing up against his as they met in the living room, which for the night had become a small dance floor, crowded with sweaty drunk bodies but somehow the two had found each other. And Simon remembers turning his _teasing_ dial up to a 10 -- meaning...the things he’d done for Markus’ attention...the things he _said_...Connor was right, Simon felt like he was a different person in his memories of the night. Theres no way he would let anyone give him hickeys unless he really was that drunk..or..unless it was Markus. If Simon was being honest with himself, he'd probably march straight up to Markus right  _now_ and let him have his way with him. 

It was a good thing most people were probably too drunk to notice them, Simon kinda wished he didn’t remember the way Markus and him had moved around the house, finding their way upstairs and Markus’ hands finding their way to the buttons on Simon’s jeans. Because now, sitting in his first lecture of his second last semester in College -- it was all he _could_ think about. It was all he _wanted_ to think about.

After a few more minutes of Markus writing on the board, he turned back around, marker being placed gently by his open laptop. _Gentle_... Simon knew that Markus was anything _but_ gentle.

He began to speak, asking questions about the things written on the board. He even at one point hears Connor talking beside him, contributing to the avid conversation that flows around the classroom. He watches as someone says something that makes Markus _laugh_ , half-sitting on a table, a comfortable look for a common professor who Simon, once again, knew he was anything but _common_. 

Simon watches on in a state of fascination and _want_ as Markus’ tongue sometimes licks over his bottom lip, and Simon has to wonder if the brief glances he gives towards Simon’s way after biting down on his lip for an unconventional amount of time _meant_ something.

Class is over before he knows it, having spent most of his time just staring at Markus in utter awe and disbelief that _he_ was the one settled between Simon’s thighs for a good portion of the night, doing things to him that Simon never lets Connor do -- the hickies being something small compared to other things.

Connor stands, putting his things in his backpack, and then he’s waiting. Simon stays sitting, watching as some students begin to swarm to the front of the class, clearly all feeling that aura of magnetism that Markus gives off -- wanting to be closer, wanting to know more. Simon was now the one feeling jealous. 

Except, none of them had shared the same experience that Simon had now shared with Markus. None of them knew what Markus _tasted_ like, and Simon felt sort of special for that. 

“Si..you coming?” Connor asks, pulling Simon from his trance.

“Yeah yeah.” He responds with a dejected tone, avoiding Connor's eyes which refused to look anywhere else. 

“Are you mad at me?” Connor asks once Simon is standing, slowly putting his laptop away, wasting some time to wait for the crowd of students to begin dispersing. 

“No.. it’s fine..” Simon says, because truly, it is. He doesn’t really care if Connor _is_ jealous or not.. It’s his own problem to deal with, and Simon would rather not probe into it and possibly make it worse for both Connor and himself. 

“Okay...Brunch?” Connor suggests sweetly, a sheepish smile growing on his features. There is hope glimmering in those big brown soft eyes. 

“Yeah for sure, I’ll meet you outside in a moment, I wanna ask the prof about something.” Simon responds, his head still hurting slightly because of the hangover, but also because he is trying to fit more pieces of his night together, but he’s mostly coming up blank. He hopes after a brief (or not-so brief) conversation with Markus, things could get cleared up..things could be remembered more clearly. 

“Okay.” Connor says with a quick nod, making his way to the exit, phone in hand as he unlocks it to resume his ongoing Tetris game.

Simon takes a small breath, feeling a little nervous but more excited than anything, as the crowd of students disperse, and as he makes his way down to the front, he finds he is the last one left in the lecture hall.

Markus’ back is to him, as he is packing up his things as well into a black leather carrying bag. Simon noticed how well dressed Markus was last night with his off-white shirt rolled just above his elbows and tight black jeans, and today, dressier pants and a navy blue button up that made his overall self radiate with confidence and _again_...that magnetism that pulled Simon towards him.

Simon stood there, waiting to be addressed or noticed, but when he realized Markus didn’t even realize he was standing there, he took a moment to decide what was best to do to get his attention. Quickly, he figured that a simple sound would suffice. He clears his throat, and it makes Markus stop packing mid-way, and he turns, looking over his shoulder.

Those _eyes_. Jeez..Simon almost felt the wind get knocked out of him. Markus’ eyes glance briefly over Simon, and Simon wishes he would’ve paid a bit better attention to what he was wearing than just grey joggers and an old Detroit College hoodie that was pretty retro -- he found it in his parent’s basement back in high school, as it was his dad’s before Simon had stolen it for himself. There was even a coffee stain on the side of it, which Simon hoped Markus wouldn't notice. 

“Do you have a question?” Markus asks, his face remaining expressionless -- actually, if anything, he looked unimpressed at the conversation they had yet to have. Simon couldn’t help but let that sting.

He saw no recognition flood over Markus’ face as it previously had earlier in the day, and this time instead watched as Markus sat back against the table, already dissatisfied and uninterested, but it was clear that this is the vibe he was _trying_ to give off. At least, thats what Simon hoped. 

“Yes.” Simon responds, and _well_ _fuck,_ now he actually had to think of something to ask.

“Go on, then.” Markus gestures with his palms facing upwards, trying to suggest that he was listening and waiting. Simon can’t help but suddenly catch onto the silver band that Markus wore on his finger. _A wedding ring?_ Simon felt some kind of alarm begin to go off inside of him, his nerves and anxiety rising slowly.  

“Um,” Simon swallows, eyes flickering back and forth from the deep blue eye to the vibrant green, trying to decipher and find some sort of emotion in them. Nervously, he raises a hand to scratch the back of his neck, and he almost misses the way Markus’ eyes follow, eyes landing on the hickey that peeks out from underneath his hoodie. And then -- _there it was,_ a slight smirk forming at the corner of his mouth, pupils growing at the sight of the purpled bruise a familiar teeth marks.

Their eyes meet again, and Simon blurts out the first thing he can think of.

“I just noticed you never introduced a TA to our class. If you ever need any extra help, I’d be interested to do you-- I mean.. _Help you_.” Simon quickly corrects, his whole face going red at the way he stumbled over his words.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” Markus says smoothly, standing with a sigh. “What did you say your name was?”

“Simon. Lambert. Simon Lambert.” Simon held out his hand, and Markus took a step towards him, hands meeting in the middle with a quick shake. Again, it lingers too long. Fingers pulling apart slowly, some sort of electricity between them. 

“Nice to meet you, Simon. I expect that after today, there won’t be any more..incidences.” Markus says, and although Simon _knows_ Markus is talking about the class disruption, Simon wonders if he also means they won’t be hooking up anytime soon. Which, sure, it disappoints Simon slightly, but if Markus ever calls on him to stay back...maybe email him to meet up to help mark essays...Simon can only dream of possibly getting to be underneath him again. Maybe even right here, right on the desk where Markus was leaning against. 

Simon, with a nod and smile, bites onto his bottom lip. Markus’ eyes look down to his lips, but the way he looks at Simon after that is almost like a baby deer caught in headlights. 

Maybe Simon wouldn’t have to _dream_ about it after all.

“Yes, sir.” He responds quickly, turning and practically jogging out of the room.

He doesn't wait to see the way Markus has to grip onto the side of the table for a moment, knuckles growing white the longer he held on, a small and breathy sigh escaping him, for Markus  _knew_ he was completely, purely, and utterly  _fucked_. 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed so far!! comments and kudos appreciated! more to come 
> 
> :)


End file.
